


Residential Desires

by tansybells



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, F/F, Femslash February, Fluff and Humor, Hilda Goneril is an Aspiring Monsterfucker, Sexual Tension, Vampire Bites, Vampire!Marianne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:42:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells
Summary: Marianne's evening is interrupted by a guest who very,verymuch wants to be invited in for the night.Vampire!Marianne/Human!Hilda
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	Residential Desires

**Author's Note:**

> So. Lady Dimitrescu, huh?

The deep, ominous sound of the ornate doorknocker at Marianne’s front door echoed throughout the bare, empty halls of her castle. Marianne gathered the ivory fabric of her nightdress up in her fists as she hurried to answer the frantic knocking, which so far had yet to cease, even a full minute after it had started.

This happened, sometimes, and it rarely ended pleasantly for either party involved. The uninvited guest was always turned away, and Marianne always locked the door behind them, feeling forever the monster for her lack of hospitality. But it was always the _right_ thing to do, no matter how bad it made Marianne feel.

So, when Marianne stepped up to the front door, she steeled her heart in preparation to announce her denial. She set her jaw, then leaned up against the door.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Marianne loudly said through the crack of the door, her confidence bolstered by her inability to actually see through the thick cedar. “It’s not safe for you to be here!”

She didn’t dare to peek through the crack between the double doors, just in case her unwanted visitor had one of those faces that just _screamed_ for help. The thing was, nearly everyone who was brave enough to travel the long, winding path to her dark, ominous castle ended up having one of those very faces by the time they wound up at her front door.

To her horror, however, her visitor had enough strength of self—and shoulder—that with a surprisingly loud grunt of effort, the doors swung open towards Marianne. Marianne took a step back to keep herself from being bowled over by them.

Instantly, Marianne knew she was in trouble. The woman on her doorstep indeed looked just as pitiful and needy as she’d feared she would be. To make things worse, she was _beautiful._ Stunningly so. If Marianne didn’t know better, if she couldn’t smell the deep and distinctly human flavor of her blood, she might have thought that her guest had the ever-youthful beauty of some supernatural creature.

Marianne struggled to look away from her dark eyes as the woman slowly lifted her shawl from her hair and revealed long, pink locks. Time seemed to slow as she shook her hair out, the motion sending sparkling, glimmering droplets of rainwater out into the air surrounding her.

“Please, can I stay the night?” the young woman whispered, her voice rough and dry as she wrapped her soaked shawl tightly around her shoulders. “It’s cold, and dark, and I don’t know where else to go.”

“You poor thing,” Marianne gasped. Her hand flew up to press against her heart, cold and unbeating as it was, and pity filled her to the brim.

She wanted nothing more than to help the young woman, but at the same time, she knew of the risks. She knew of the risks _intimately_ —and since she hadn’t had the opportunity to visit the butcher recently, her stomach grumbled at her in warning. Immediately, she moved her hand from her heart to press it against her belly in the hopes of quieting it, and she awkwardly ducked her head down.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, mumbling. “I—I think there’s an inn a mile or so away, so perhaps—”

“It’s so _dark,_ though,” the woman said with a pitiful warble in her voice. “What if—what if a wolf finds me on the trail, and tries to eat me up?” Pulling her shawl down off of her shoulder to reveal the soft, supple skin of her upper arm, she looked pleadingly up at Marianne. “I’m scared.”

Marianne’s mouth went dry. She averted her gaze from her unexpected guest, and took a deep breath. Subconsciously, she ran the tip of her tongue against the pointed tips of her fangs. She wanted to let the young woman in. Not only that—she wanted to let the young woman in, strip her bare, and suck her dry. She wanted to ravish her until she cried for a different kind of help, and that was exactly why she couldn’t let her in.

“Please,” Marianne said, “just—”

Out of nowhere, the young woman swept in closer to her. She set a pale, slender hand on Marianne’s arm and looked up at her piteously.

“Please?” she whispered. “Just one night. I won’t ask for anything else; I’m just—I’m terrified.”

Marianne’s resolve faltered, and she brought her gaze to meet the woman’s deep pink eyes.

She seemed sincerely fearful. Marianne wanted so desperately to help—but at the same time, she couldn’t ignore the hunger that had begun to roil in her belly. So, hesitantly, she decided to extend what assistance she could.

“You can stay the night,” she began. Immediately, the woman’s eyes lit up with hope.

“Oh my _gosh,_ ” she exclaimed, clinging close to Marianne, who instinctively drew closer as well. “I can’t thank you enough!”

Horrified, Marianne realized what she was doing, and she shook the woman off roughly. “I simply—you just can’t touch me, okay? If you touch me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”

“Oh, okay.” The woman dropped her gaze dejectedly.

“Come, come in,” Marianne said, drawing aside so that the woman—her guest—could enter the tall walls of her home. “You may call me Marianne. You are?”

“I’m Hilda!” Bouncing alongside her like a little wolf cub, Hilda followed as Marianne turned to walk towards the dusty, long-abandoned hallway of guest bedrooms. The door swung closed behind them. “Do you get a lot of people out here, Marianne? I mean, you’re super hot, so I guess you’d _have_ to.”

“I’m sorry?” Marianne glanced down beside her as she walked up the grand staircase. Had she misheard her guest?

“I mean, your house is _really_ pretty.” Hilda swung her arms out around her as she followed . Marianne could only assume that she was marveling at the ornate scrollwork that decorated the walls, the crystal and gold chandelier that hung above the foyer, and she had to agree.

Hilda however, only continued. “Like, this whole place is so _sexy._ But it’s, uh, also surprisingly hot?” She sloughed off her shawl entirely and, despite the way it dripped rainwater down onto the ground at her feet, held it in her hands. Once again, Marianne deliberately looked away, away from the sumptuous slope of her shoulders, the once-hidden shapes of muscles revealed by the loss of the shawl, and the absolutely translucent fabric of her thin silk dress. She looked most specifically away from the way the neckline of Hilda’s dress put the bulk of her cleavage on display.

“…Marianne?”

Caught off-guard by Hilda’s chest, Marianne started. She’d missed a question, apparently. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were hot, too.” Hilda cheekily bumped her hip against Marianne’s.

“I—my home has central heating,” Marianne stammered. She stepped away from Hilda. “There’s a furnace in the basement that pipes steam throughout the house. Th—that’s probably why you’re hot.”

“Sure, yeah, let’s go with that.”

Her mind racing frantically, Marianne opened the first door to a guest bedroom that she saw. “Here you go,” she told Hilda. “There, uh, should be some clothes in the wardrobe.” She hesitated. “Probably. I think. Make yourself comfortable.”

Instead of going into the room and making herself comfortable, as Marianne indicated for her to do, Hilda sidled up to Marianne again. “What if I just… borrow one of your nightgowns?” She plucked at the white lace lining the cuff of Marianne’s sleeve. “I mean, you smell good. I could go to sleep smelling like that.”

“I, uh…” Marianne searched her mind for a reasonable excuse. To her horror, her head felt entirely blank when Hilda brushed against her, and she shuddered. “I can go get one, I suppose.”

“Cool!” Hilda beamed at her, and with her hands shaking in confusion, Marianne left her alone.

Eventually, after retrieving a nightgown, she passed it to a grateful Hilda. The young woman had begun to strip immediately, with no regard for propriety, and Marianne had fled the room just as fast. But she was drawn back by a pitiful request for a hot drink.

Considering how cold Hilda had been upon arriving, Marianne had been unable to decline the request. But when she’d brought the tea to Hilda and once again attempted to leave, Hilda had clung to her relentlessly with cries for her companionship.

It had gone on endlessly with plea after mournful plea, but now that Marianne had witnessed Hilda wrap herself up several blankets and lie down in her bed, she felt comfortable enough to leave her guest alone in favor of a cup of oxblood by the fireplace. Being with Hilda for as long as demanded had its obvious drawbacks; seeing so much bare skin on a terrifyingly oblivious woman had been enough to draw Marianne to the most desperate brink of hunger.

“That took too long,” she mumbled to herself, slouching back against her high-backed chair with her teacup against her lips. “She was too… it was too much.”

She parted her lips and let thick, luscious oxblood flow into her mouth. As nice as it tasted, though, as efficiently as it sated her appetite, oxblood forever left her with the feeling that _something_ was missing.

Marianne knew what that something was, of course. There was no doubt in her mind as to what she wanted to consume. Her thoughts drifted towards the young woman sleeping innocently in her home, and as she took another sip of her meal, she closed her eyes, let her imagination run wild.

“Hey. Marianne.”

Hilda’s voice was thicker than the oxblood itself, so thick that it veritably _dripped_ with honey. A chill ran down Marianne’s spine as she imagined the way Hilda’s breath would be warm against her ever-cold skin. Cupping her mug within her hands, she tilted her head back and drained the remainder of her meal in a single draft.

“ _Hey, Marianne_.”

Fantasy Hilda’s voice became louder, more insistent. Marianne ignored it.

“Hey! Are you ignoring me?”

Her eyes still closed, Marianne wiped her chin off with the palm of her hand. She licked the residual blood off of her hand with a firm insistence to not lose a single drop of sweet, precious fluid. Then, out of nowhere, she felt someone else’s warm, wet tongue on her hand.

Marianne shrieked and jerked away from the touch. Her mug fell to her lap, leaving a trail of blood on the white fabric of her nightgown, then to the floor in front of her. She snapped her head to the side, then froze as she saw Hilda smile right up in her face.

“Blood, huh?” Hilda began, but whatever she said next was drowned out by the rush of hunger-fueled rage that now filled Marianne’s ears. She heard nothing. She saw nothing, but for the cheeky little _temptress_ that had barged into her home, ruined her evening of solitude, and now adding insult to injury, stained the once-clean fabric of her favorite nightgown.

A growl, low and threatening, began to build in Marianne’s throat. Hilda’s eyes widened, and she took a step back as Marianne stood up, pulling herself up to her full, impressive height. Fury burning in her chest, she reached for Hilda, who gasped as Marianne wrapped her hand around her pert little chin.

“It’s rude to invite yourself into someone else’s house, you know,” Marianne murmured, lifting Hilda’s chin to further expose the sleek, still-damp skin of her neck. “Anyone else would lock you out. I _should_ have locked you out.”

“But you didn’t,” Hilda said cheekily, and Marianne tightened her hold.

“What do you know of vampires?” She spoke quietly, filling her voice with the latent power that all of her kind possessed. “Surely, you’ve heard the rumors.”

“I have.” Hilda’s expression took on a hungry light. “That’s why I came here in the first place.”

“Because you heard of a vampire living here?” Marianne chuckled, her anxiety gradually being overwhelmed by animalistic instinct. “I knew humans were foolish. It’s been a long time since one was foolish enough to come so eagerly into my home while _knowing_ of who—of _what_ lives here.”

“Okay,” Hilda said, shaking her head free of Marianne’s grasp, “but consider that I came here because I thought the rumors were _super_ hot?” She grinned, and the curvature of her lips was nearly as predatory as the desire that had begun to roil deep in Marianne’s belly.

Marianne raised a brow. “You _want_ this?” Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “No, no. That—that’d be madness.”

“Mm.” Hilda leaned in towards Marianne and, propping herself up on her toes, came so close that her breath tickled like feathers across Marianne’s cheek. “Believe it or not, I’ve been called mad before. Worse, too.”

Hilda took Marianne’s hands in hers and, pulling them down towards her, used Marianne’s hands to pull down both capped sleeves of her nightgown. The lightly sun-freckled skin of Hilda’s upper arms was exposed, as were the majority of Hilda’s breasts, and, for the first time, Marianne took a full, deep breath.

The scent of Hilda’s bare skin, mixed with the familiar smell of her own clothing as it was, was so thick and intoxicating that Marianne began to feel dizzy. It set her instincts aflame, and gave Marianne the feeling that while she hadn’t yet tasted Hilda’s blood, Hilda was already hers.

_Hers._

Marianne licked her lips, then split her mouth into a wide-toothed smile. For the first time, she let her sharp, pearly-white fangs come into full view, and to her delight, Hilda shuddered. The motion enveloped Hilda’s entire body, and having such helpless prey beneath her touch only made Marianne hungrier.

“Where did all of that bravado go?” Marianne purred, leaning in to inhale Hilda more. “I thought you wanted this.”

“I do!” Despite the strength of her insistence, Hilda trembled beneath her touch. Marianne flicked her tongue out across Hilda’s shoulder, let the salt of her skin and the taste of her fear overwhelm her olfactory senses.

“Then…” Marianne pulled away and looked over Hilda lazily, blinking slowly as she took in the rapid pace of Hilda’s pulse. It threatened to drown out every other sound around her, Hilda’s heart beat so loudly, and she wanted nothing more than to immediately plunge her fangs into Hilda’s skin.

But she was a predator. She knew that while fear was the sweetest taste of all, arousal followed shortly after.

“Show me.”

It was as though Hilda had been waiting— _anticipating,_ even—that very command. Because even as Hilda let go of her sleeves, allowing the bodice of her dress to fall down and hang around her waist, she swayed her hips from side to side. Marianne only noticed the movement out of the corner of her vision, though, so focused on the enticing pulsation of Hilda’s veins was she.

“Do you think I’d come all the way out here, in the middle of the night,” Hilda said as she began to sashay her way out of her nightgown—but Marianne caught her hands on her waist before she had a chance to completely undress.

“Y—you don’t need to go that far,” she mumbled in a surge of embarrassment, averting her gaze from the expanse of skin that Hilda had exposed. “I don’t need _that_ much to feed from.”

Hilda raised a curious brow. “You told me to show you how much I wanted you,” she teased, leaning in to press her bare breasts against Marianne’s body. “And here I was, thinking I was doing exactly that.”

Marianne closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Apparently, she had been wrong to assume that she and Hilda had been on the same page from the get-go. “You don’t need to do that,” she scolded. “I just want your blood.”

“Same difference.” Hilda smirked up at her, but to Marianne’s relief, she stopped stripping down. She held her hands up at waist-height and pushed her shoulders back, presenting her chest for Marianne’s inspection. “This alright for you, Marianne?”

And with that simple expression, Marianne decided that she was through with the sweet-talking.

Keeping her grasp tight on Hilda’s waist, Marianne leaned in and hungrily pressed her lips against Hilda’s. Hilda’s mouth was just as soft as she’d hoped it would be, but it wasn’t enough for her. She was hungry, _so_ hungry, and contrary to her desire, she wasn’t going to be getting any nourishment from Hilda’s lips.

Nothing other than Hilda’s sweet, needy whimpers, anyway.

Hilda didn’t seem to be content with mere kisses, though, and with a soft moan, she tangled her fingers in the long hair that cascaded down Marianne’s back. Marianne returned the favor, and tugging on Hilda’s own hair, pulled her head back far enough to put the quick-pulsing veins of her neck on display. They seemed to glow in Marianne’s eyes, full of Hilda’s lifeblood as they were, and Marianne traced the veins with her gaze. As tempting as the quick and easy route of Hilda’s jugular was, she had the feeling that Hilda had… other locations in mind.

With one hand, Marianne cradled the back of Hilda’s neck. Hilda gasped as Marianne set her other hand on the small of Hilda’s back and yanked her in so close that their hips crashed unceremoniously against each other. Marianne blinked slowly, languidly regarding the smooth expanse of Hilda’s breast. She could practically hear the frantic beating of Hilda’s heart, and now that she had Hilda for herself, she wanted nothing more than to bite her in the most opportune place possible.

She opened her mouth as wide as she could, her fangs on full display for Hilda, then leaned in and sank her teeth into the flesh of Hilda’s upper breast. Hilda yelped beneath her touch; an exquisite satisfaction bloomed in Marianne’s chest at the sound. _Finally,_ Hilda had nothing to say.

Releasing her bite, Marianne placed her lips over the wounds and sucked. It took a moment for the faint dribble of blood to strengthen to the semi-steady flow that Marianne instinctively preferred, but once the complex taste of Hilda’s blood hit her tongue, it was all Marianne could do to keep herself from greedily sucking Hilda dry.

How could she ever have thought oxblood could do _anything_ to replace the sweetness of the human equivalent? It flooded her senses, overwhelming rational thought until all she knew was hunger, blood, and the quiet moans of Hilda beneath her. How had she gone so _long_ without the blood of a human to sustain her?

She’d have to reconsider her plan for life-long solitude after this.

Warmth ran down her throat, blood dribbled down her chin, and it wasn’t until Hilda began to push her away that Marianne stopped sucking and licking at Hilda’s chest.

“Hold up,” Hilda gasped, placing her palm on Marianne’s forehead and pushing her back. “’m starting to feel kinda dizzy.”

Marianne ran her tongue over her lips as she stared down at Hilda’s blood-smeared skin. Briefly, in the back of her mind, she felt a flash of frustration at being taken away from her meal so unceremoniously, but she released Hilda from her grasp and eased her down onto the chair she herself had once been sitting on.

“I’m so sorry,” Marianne mumbled as Hilda pressed her hand over the bite marks on her chest. Judging by the way Hilda lolled against the back of her chair, Marianne worried that she’d taken far too much out of her guest. Even if Hilda _had_ practically begged for it. “I, um, can I get you something to drink?” she hazarded. “I really didn’t mean to take so much from you. Even if you did ask for it.”

Hilda laughed weakly. “Yeah, I definitely asked for it,” she said, resting her head onto her shoulder. “Definitely. Yeah, definitely asked for it.”

Marianne frowned. No, she had _certainly_ taken too much from Hilda, if her nearly nonsensical chattering was anything to go by.

“How about we get you back to bed?” Marianne asked, concerned, but Hilda shook her head.

“Cuddle with me,” Hilda insisted, holding her hands out for Marianne to take. Frowning, Marianne took her hands and pulled her up to her feet.

“After you rest.”

“And then we can bone?”

Marianne stammered for words before she settled on a shocked, high-pitched, “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Hilda mumbled, slinging her arms around Marianne’s waist. “That’s what happens after you go into a vampire castle and get your blood drank, right?”

“I… uh…” Marianne searched frantically for an answer as she dragged Hilda back to her room. That was certainly what tended to happen in vampire-focused romance novels, but was that what she wanted to happen? “We can discuss that when you get up,” she promised, at which Hilda grinned goofily.

“Great. ‘Cause you’re _really_ pretty, and I wanna—”

Marianne hauled Hilda onto her bed with no little effort. “In the morning.”

Since Hilda’s ulterior motive had been both revealed and fulfilled, Marianne had no problem with tucking Hilda in and convincing her to _stay there._ But now that Marianne didn’t have to worry about keeping her secret safe or her appetite sated, she found that there were other things to be concerned about.

How was she going to get the blood out of her favorite nightgown? What was she going to do about cleaning the carpet? And perhaps most importantly: now that she’d had a taste of her blood, would she ever be able to let Hilda leave?

**Author's Note:**

> So on one hand, I wrote this for Hilda's bday. On the other, I wrote it to celebrate having posted fic for a year! I started January 29th, 2020, and since then, I've posted nearly 215,000 words of gay stuff and monsters! It's been a crazy ride, and I can't be more grateful for the friends and memories I've made along the way. 
> 
> Thanks to [Lily](https://twitter.com/spiderlilywrites) for her beta work! This time, and all the others. And additional thanks to my awesome monsterfucking community on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tansybells) for all the laughs and fun times. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading! Here's to another year. ♡


End file.
